


All About Us

by UncrewedCandy29



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 23:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17497307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UncrewedCandy29/pseuds/UncrewedCandy29
Summary: It didn’t even reach dinner when a rumour spread among the Servants and Chaldea employees: the Saint of Orleans and the male King of Knights are seeing each other.





	All About Us

**Author's Note:**

> I blame myself for reading a fanfic about this pair and I love these two together. So I had to write a fanfic about them. I hope I did them justice. They might be OOC but when it comes to feelings, who doesn’t? Let me know if there’s mistakes (‘cause I don’t have a betareader, sadly but I did check this a few times before posting) and if you want more of these two. It has been a long time since I wrote something

Arthur Pendragon wasn’t sure when did it became a thing for them to have lunch together but it started out sometime after the Sixth Singularity when he couldn’t find an empty seat in the cafeteria. Normally there would be an empty table or two but this time it was filled with both Servants and the Chaldea employees. He walked pass several tables searching for a place for him to enjoy his lunch and sighed, relief that there was an empty space beside a familiar Servant.

And from that moment onwards they would usually have lunch together at the same table – with or without the company of others.

Arthur chewed a small piece of chicken that had been thrown into his mashed potato, listening to his friend as she described what had transpired in Chaldea during the mission he was deployed the day before. Every now and then he would add his input and chuckle when something humorous happened.

In truth, he wasn’t really paying attention to what she said – well, he does listen to what she said but he was mesmerised by her. Arthur could only stare at her amethyst eyes as they were laced with passion and happiness. She would make arm gestures as she explained the events that happened. Even underneath the fluorescent light, her hair shined like gold.

He realized was too out of it when she posed him a question and would have missed if it wasn’t for her shifting in her seat, uncomfortably. In fact, Arthur didn’t even realize when did Jeanne had gone silent.  
“Do you ever resent them for falling in love with each other?” the blonde asked slowly, pushing aside the red beans with her fork. She risked a glance towards the fair-haired male sitting across her and saw that he froze at her unexpected question – in reality, it made him snap back to reality. Her face heated up in embarrassment. “I-I-I mean –”

Arthur laughed at the sight of her embarrassed. She reprimanded him for laughing at her while throwing a poor attempt of a glare. It made him laugh harder. To be honest, he wasn’t expecting for the saint to ask him such question and she was the first person – or Servant – who dared to mention it. The other Servants had merely dared to mention the Battle of Camlann – particularly Gilgamesh – which was a sore subject to him, Arturia and Mordred. Even if he and Arturia were from a different version of world but the legend stayed the same.

Within the last few moments in his life, he was angry – furious, even to both Lancelot and Guinevere. Who in their right mind wouldn’t? His spouse having an affair with one of his most trusted knight was something that he didn’t imagine that would happen to him. Arthur remembered the days when he would spend days occupied with the kingdom’s needs in order to push the incident in the corner in his mind. However, it plagued him during the night where he was most vulnerable. Thinking how long has it gone without him knowing that his wife was tangled in these same sheets that they shared with another man. The same night, he left his chamber opting to sleep in another room. After he had calmed his anger, not long after, he arrived with the same conclusion he told Jeanne.

Arthur sobered and turned to the saint, his eyes serious. “I don’t,” was his reply. “I was angry at them but I couldn’t hate them. It was my fault for neglecting her.” He looked down and scooped a spoonful of mashed potato. “Even after everything I still loved Guinevere. Pretty pathetic if you ask me.”

Jeanne reached over the table, placing a finger under his chin and lifted his face to look at her directly in the eyes. “No, it’s not pathetic,” she stated firmly, a small smile graced her thin lips. “You are a kind and selfless man for not reacting in anger. Others would usually punish their spouse for doing something like that but you don’t. You didn’t succumb to your anger no matter how tempted you are.”

The blonde retracted her hand from his face but he caught it in his grip. His emerald green eyes burned with sincerity when he thanked her. She replied with a smile and gently squeezed his hand.

Neither moved from their position as the held each other’s gaze.

Caught up in each other, neither realized their surroundings until they heard someone cleared their throat loudly. The two fair-haired jumped slightly and removed their grip on each other as if their touch burned them. Jeanne busied herself with her half eaten lunch, her face turned red while her male companion threw a withering glare at the smirking white haired mage.

Merlin moved to sit beside the blushing female, slowly unwrapped his sandwich. Arthur felt like wiping the smug look of his face. “You’re drawing quite the stares, Your Highness,” he commented casually. The saint turned to Merlin and he merely winked at her, causing her face to turn a darker shade of red.

Jeanne stood abruptly, grabbing her tray and dumping the contents in the trash can, swiftly leaving the cafeteria with a few Servants looking at her with amused expressions.

The mage gave an innocent look when the King of Knights turned to glare daggers at him, again.

It didn’t even reach dinner when a rumour spread among the Servants and Chaldea employees: the Saint of Orleans and the male King of Knights are _seeing_ each other.

* * *

It wasn’t often that the Knights of the Round Table – and Merlin – would gather together and chat; even when they were alive they hardly had the time to relax since they were constantly busy with matters involving Camelot. It started out with Arthur who was in search for food late at night and soon after Arturia came into the kitchen, hungry as well, which prompted Arthur to heat some leftover spaghetti that Emiya had made for dinner and sat on the high chair surrounding the kitchen counter. Not long after that Lancelot came in followed by the rest of the knights. Merlin came in last, surveying the group and riffled through the cabinet in search for alcohol that one of the Servants had stashed.

Merlin swirled the alcohol in his mug – because they couldn’t find where the wine glasses where hidden so they settle with mugs, musing when was the last time they had gather without a care in the world.

No country to worry about.

No wars with a neighbouring country.

Nothing.

Free of their responsibilities.

Just a group of friends – although there _are two_ King Arthur – enjoying company.

Although, the alcohol played a huge part in the gathering.

The mage sipped the wine and observed as they laughed as they recall some moments in their past. It was a nice change to see them as carefree as they were before the downfall of Camelot. It was as if that had never happened that is if one ignored whenever Guinevere was mentioned Lancelot and Arturia would tense slightly while Arthur’s grip on his fork would tighten before relaxing, slowly. Merlin noted the difference of relationship between Arthur and Guinevere was much more intimate than Arturia and Guinevere had which was limited to friendship. Curiously, the Mage of Flowers asked for the first time that night, “You know, I was actually wondering about the alternate Camelot. Seeing as in your world King Arthur is male and in ours, female. I wonder what else is different.”

Arthur pondered, swirling the spaghetti. “In my world, Merlin is a female and less of a prankster,” he stated, teasingly which caused the other knights to laugh as they recall the amount of times they became a victim of Merlin’s infamous pranks and how many times it backfired on him. The mage himself laughed sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

 _Arthur is much more carefree than Arturia_ , Merlin noted to himself.

“Other than that, there’s not much difference,” Arthur continued after they sobered. “But I had a son. He was too little to live and couldn’t last a week.” There as a long silence as they bowed their heads as they offer prayer for the little prince. The king forced a laugh. “I apologize. It was too gloomy for a rare night as this.”

It took them a while for the conversation to continue, to forget what Arthur had revealed. It was a shock for them, especially for Lancelot who only felt guiltier. Merlin, however, didn’t miss the look that was exchanged between the two.

The group was still rowdy when someone unexpected entered the kitchen with an empty glass in hand but quieted when they heard the sound of the door sliding open, turning to look at the person simultaneously. The said person looked at them in surprise.

“Oh!” Jeanne exclaimed. “Am I interrupting something?”

Bedivere was the first to recover, a polite smile painted on his lips. “No, no, milady,” he assured her. “Just a gathering with old friends. Would you like to join us?”

The saint shook her head, lifting the empty glass in her hand. “Thank you for the offer but I just need a refill.”

“Are you sure, Jeanne?” Arturia asked, gesturing to the food and alcohol displayed on the counter. “We have room to spare.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” the maiden replied, moving towards the fridge and pulled out a water container. She poured a glass of water for herself and returned the container back in the fridge before turning to look at them. “I’ll only be the only stranger if I joined.”

“Nonsense, milady,” Lancelot stated. “A friend of our kings is a friend of ours.”

“I’m honoured that you feel that way, Sir Lancelot.”

Arthur tilted his head and offered the drink in his hand. “Since we are all friends, we should drop the honorifics. So, Jeanne, care to join us?”

Jeanne glanced at the content of the mug and breathed out a laugh. “Drinking alcohol at night? I expect better from you, Arthur,” she teased, sipping the offered drink, not wanting to offend the former king and hand him the mug back.

“You worry too much. I don’t see you complaining when Gilgamesh drinks a little too much.”

“That’s because you’re not him, Arthur,” she reprimanded. “And I have seen you drunk before. It’s not a sight befitting for the King of Knight.”

“I’ll have you know that I do have a high tolerance. It’s just that you happened to be there when I reached my limit.”

“Of course you were,” Jeanne rolled her eyes internally at the male and glanced at him, her face serious but her amethyst eyes betrayed a spark of playfulness before reaching for her water. “But thank you. Please, do remember we have a mission tomorrow. Try not to burden Master and the rest of us with a hangover.” With that said, Jeanne exited the kitchen with the now-full glass before bidding the group a good night.

“Well, wasn’t that interesting,” Mordred drawled, smirking.

Merlin hid a smile behind the rim of his mug as the knights turned to tease Arthur. _Indeed it was._

* * *

Fujimaru Ritsuka held his hand out muttering a spell and fired it towards the enemy. He scanned the area realizing that two of the Servants that he brought along were missing. “Where’s Arthur and Jeanne?” he shouted over the clang of weapons.

“I don’t know about Jeanne but Arthur went searching for her when he didn’t see her,” Mash replied and blocked a club aimed at her with the shield, grunting. She turned to look at him and gasped, eyes wide with concern, “Senpai, your left!”

The dark haired managed to dodge a swing of a blade in a nick of time before shooting another spell. “Eyes on the enemies, Mash!” he heard Darmuid chiding.

“I saw Arthur heading that way,” Arash supplied, nodding towards his right and fired an arrow at the werejaguar that appeared behind Medea. “We can handle things here. We’ll meet up with you later.”

The Master nodded and sprinted towards the direction with the Archer providing cover when an enemy follow him. He would thank Arash later at camp. It was just his luck to run into enemies. Ever since the First Singularity, he would run into enemies nearly _everywhere_. Although it did give him a lot of fighting experience but at this point it felt more like a chore. The moment Diarmuid – who had gone ahead of them – had spotted a number of werejaguars, Fujimaru held back a groan and had to restrain himself from pulling his hair out of frustration.

The mission was simple; gather resources for ascension items since they almost ran out and rayshift back to Chaldea. _Seems simple enough_ , was what he had thought when Da Vinci told him but nope, he had to run into several enemies while gathering the items.

Normally they would send the Servants on a hunt themselves since they were capable of doing something as trivial as search and gather resources. The reason Fujimaru joined in was because he was stressed out with the amount of paperwork stacked on his table – he suspected Romani had slid some of _his_ paperwork into his stack – and went only to blow some steam.

But it only added the weight of his stress.

Also his luck had apparently ran out before they rayshifted. The Master not only had woken up late but Arthur was also nursing a hangover. He had to give credit to Arthur for appearing fine when they gathered in the Command Room and they moment they rayshifted to Orleans, he dropped to his knees and begin to hurl the contents of his breakfast. It also caused Jeanne to scowl – a rare occurrence – and scold him for drinking too much before a mission. Darmuid and Arash gave him amused looks while Mash and Medea, a look of pity. Fujimaru could only stare at the sight of Arthur with a face of martyr and Jeanne giving him a piece of her mind, incredulously. And that was when Roman’s hologram figure decided to appear since they haven’t moved.  
Pushing his thoughts aside, the dark haired continued running as he avoided tripping over the exposed roots. The good doctor could establish communication anytime and he, obviously, wouldn’t want the whole staff in the Command Room to see him with his face planted to the ground.

Fujimaru opened his mouth to call out the two when he spotted the duo but held back. The two Servants were knelt down in front of each other – way too close to be considered friendly. Their hushed conversation carried to where he was perched against a tree, who was catching his breath and strained his ear to listen to their whispered conversation. It was rude to eavesdrop but both Ruler and Saber looked very much like the rumour that he heard the week before; noting that their weapons were laid on the ground only at arm’s length instead of dematerializing them. Also, he was curious about their relationship at this point. _Curiosity killed the cat_ , as his friends would say.

“You’re such a reckless person,” he heard Saber reprimanded.

“Are you not one as well?” The Ruler let out a weak laugh and there was a short silence as Arthur checked her for any visible injuries. “I’m sorry,” she added after a while.

Arthur responded by pressed his forehead against the headpiece adorning her, breathing out a sigh of relief. He pressed a kiss against the cool silver piece and pulled her close. He hoped that she could understand him by his action that conveyed his words and feelings. The saint in turn pressed her face against the male’s neck, eyes closed.

From his point of view, Fujimaru couldn’t see what the Saber’s expression was but judging from their current position, he could only imagine.

The Master took a deep breath, schooling his expression and purposeful stepped on a small branch before stepping into the clearing. His gaze flickered between the duos that were currently standing apart from each other with their weapons aimed at him, thinking that it was an enemy. Fujimaru raised both his hands, laughing nervously and only then they relaxed but their weapons were gripped firmly in their hands, pretending that nothing had occurred between them and looking at him expectedly like a faithful Servant, ready to obey to his orders. He dropped his hands to his side and spoke in a commending tone that he required after facing the Singularities, “Let’s meet up with the others and set up camp before we continue.”

Fujimaru turned heading towards the other, still musing on their relationship.

* * *

Jeanne d’Arc held out the wooden sword in front of her, clad in black tights and a stolen maroon t-shirt with a small knot tied at the hem. It was obviously too big for her but no one questioned her choice of clothes since there were many Servants with different fashion taste. Her opponent however, stood in a battle stance a wooden broadsword clasped in his right hand. The hem of his grey sweatpants was rolled slightly and the dark blue t-shirt clung to his torso like a second skin was no other than Arthur Pendragon, the King of Knights. Both the fair-haired stood across each other, tensed as they waited with bated breath for either one to attack.

Normally, the Servants would spar with their own weapon but after an incident which a Servant released their Noble Phantasm, Romani Archaman and Fujimaru had banned all the Servants to use their weapons during a spar. The wooden weapons had surprisingly withstood the strength of the Servants including the Berserkers. The same could be said for the mats that nearly covered the training ground.

Taking a deep breath, Jeanne lunge forward and swung her sword. The knight parried her attack with his sword causing her to stumble slightly but she steadied herself as she barely dodged an on-coming attack. She dropped to the ground to sweep his leg under him but he jumped over her, landing softly behind her. They stood, facing each other and lunge forward, exchange blows until they were both soaking with sweat and that was when they stopped.

Both the fair-haired walked towards where they left their things and Jeanne sat against the wall while Arthur settled beside her, facing the wall and hunched over, tired. She grabbed the water bottle and drank it before passing it him. He took it gratefully, nodding his thanks to her and gave her another towel that he wasn’t using. She leaned back on the wall wiping her sweat with the white towel, observing the other Servants sparring amongst themselves.

“You know,” Arthur started, drawing her attention back to him. He raked his hair back, making a few strands of his corn coloured hair standing and clump together. “I was thinking about our conversation during lunch the other day.”

Jeanne furrowed her brows; confused since there were numerous times they had lunch together. “What conversation?”

“The one about Guinevere.”

“Oh.” Her mood suddenly deflated, hiding the disappointment in her eyes as she looked down on her lap.

The King of Knight sighed, eyes fixed on the wall. “Honestly speaking, Jeanne,” he spoke. “I feel like it’s too real for this to happen. I know that you’ve told me that I deserve to have the chance to fall in love again but –”

“But you don’t want this.” She was actually surprised at how her flat her voice sounded.

Arthur turned to look at her, taken aback. “No, I –” he took a deep breath, calming his mind. He reached for her hand that was clutching his t-shirt that she had stolen a few days ago.  
He remembered the moment as if it was yesterday that the saint was reading the book that he had left on the table and he was neatly folding his clothes on his bed when Jeanne suddenly picked up a random shirt, claiming that it was hers and promptly leaving. Arthur as too dumbstruck to run after her and after a while he realized that she had took his book as well. A small smile grazed his lips as he recalled the memory but now it wasn’t the time to get dragged by memories. He needed this closure.

They both do.

Deep down she knew she was comparing herself with the Guinevere that she read in the legend.

“Jeanne,” he tried again, moving into her line of vision, realizing that she had a faraway look in those amethyst eyes but it was gone the moment she blinked. “I do want this but it still feels surreal to me like anyone could sweep you off your feet anytime.” Jeanne opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. “I know that you’ve told me before that I deserved a chance like this but what if one day Sieg is summoned by Master. You know that there is a possibility that he could be a Heroic Spirit like us. I feel like if my effort isn’t enough, you might fall for him again and it scares me when I think about it.”

The saint laced her fingers with his, giving him an assuring smile. “I do know that. But the more I know about _you_ – the _you_ that you kept buried underneath, the deeper I fall.” She let out a sigh. “My feelings for Sieg changed after I know you better. I still care for him like I care about you, Master and the others. If I really love him, then I wouldn’t have fallen for you.” Jeanne removed one of her hands from his and reached to caress his cheek lightly. “You should stop looking behind you at your past and look forward into the present and future. The one preventing you from doing so is yourself, Arthur. Don’t let your past haunt you from moving forward.”

He leaned into her touch, chuckling. “Thank you, Jeanne. I apologize for what I said earlier.”

“No, you shouldn’t apologize. It’s better that I know now rather than keeping it buried… but I would appreciate it if we had this talk in private. Your timing is _terrible_.”

Both the fair-haired moved away slightly, suddenly embarrassed that they were in public. Arthur turned to look at the other Servants scattered across the training ground and noticed that all of them were looking at the two – even the one that was sparring – but they scrambled back to what they were doing previously when their gazes met his. However, Cu Chulainn was bold enough to throw him a grin and gave him thumbs up causing him to chuckle. The knight turned back to her.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Arthur promised sounding almost sheepish. “Will I see you at dinner later?”

Jeanne leaned towards him and placed a feather light kiss on his cheek, both knowing full well that the other Servants were still watching them – though, most of them not so discreetly. There were already rumours about the two of them together; they might as come clean. “Maybe,” she answered, returning to her previous sitting position in front of him with a cheeky smile.

“You do realize that they’re going to tease us about this right? Especially Merlin.”

The saint hummed, pushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “And everyone else.”

“And everyone else,” Arthur agreed as he stood and stretched before offering a hand towards Jeanne, a mischievous glint in his emerald green eyes “Come on. Let’s leave.”

Jeanne placed a hand on his, gripping his hand firmly and gave him one of her brilliant smiles.


End file.
